Possession
by FoxfireX17
Summary: Vegeta thinks of his love for Bulma. Please R/R.


Possession

Author's note: A V/B fic. And people, I already know Veggi's a little OOC. (For the show, at least. I think this is what he's really like when he's alone.) The song belongs to Sarah McGlachlan. And please ignore the waffiness of this piece; it was a weird time in my life. 

Disclaimer: Nothing but the over-used idea belongs to me.   
  
  


_Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide_   
_Voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time_   
_The night is my companion, and solitude my guide_   
_Would I spend forever here and not be satisfied?_

The wind struck the prince relentlessly, displacing even the stiff, presumably immobile   
strands of pointed hair in its severity; however, his eyes remained closed in concentration, his   
placid expression unwavering even as the very rocks under his feet were blasted from the cliff   
face and thrown miles into the chasm below. He stood determined and defiant atop the cliff,   
letting the whooshing sounds of the air hypnotize him. But while he relaxed into trance, true   
peace of mind eluded him. Belying his calm exterior, his thoughts were distressed.   
Cool night air caressed his face, dulled his senses, though it destroyed the surrounding   
landscape. Vegeta released a sigh as soft as a whisper. His objective was to seek reserves of   
power within his body, but the knowledge was not forthcoming, blocked by memories of her. It   
was the way she walked, the intelligence she possessed while still managing to remain what humans   
might term an 'air head'. It was the amazing brilliance of her eyes as they caught the light of the stars,   
victim to their blue depths; at a certain angle, he was convinced they held the expanse of the ocean.   
He loved the gentle way her hair fell over her face as she leaned forward, and the serious expression   
she wore when deep in thought; the fire in her gaze and crimson blush alighting her features when   
he would insult her, and even the tone and texture of her voice as she called him an arrogant jerk,   
because the love she exuded belied her harsh words. Mostly it was her smell, her delighted   
smile, the delicateness of her heated skin beneath his hands, shivering slightly at his touch. The   
desperate plea of her voice in their fevered passion.   
Vegeta grimaced - the first outward sign of his breached concentration. Acknowledging   
that no insight of power would come as long as his mind strayed, he sat at the cliff's edge,   
looking out at the desert far below. 

_And I would be the one_   
_To hold you down_   
_Kiss you so hard_   
_I'll take your breath away_   
_And after, I'd wipe away the tears_   
_Just close your eyes, dear_

Memories of the nights they shared came unbidden through the darkness of his mind.   
Once again he felt himself lost in love - a frightening feeling for the stoic, cold warrior. Such   
emotions weren't acceptable on Vegeta-sei and, in fact, were punishable for warriors. It was   
believed that to attain the highest level of skill, one must rid himself of his baser emotions and   
absorb himself in the fight. Absolute ruthlessness was accredited to the victories of all the best   
warriors. Vegeta was raised a fighter, trained in their tactics and beliefs. Years of living with a   
Saiyan's code of honor had proved to him his teachings were correct - at first. The introduction   
of love threw his world off balance, but it was hard to dismiss so many years of his life. 

_Through this world I've stumbled_   
_So many times betrayed_   
_Trying to find an honest word to find_   
_The truth enslaved_

He never had any qualms with the uncaring life he was forced to live, destroying because   
there was nothing else. And he enjoyed it. The blood of those who had wronged him stained his   
hands and he reveled in it, rejoicing in the redemption of his dignity. Every planet he annihilated   
represented a past wrong, and he corrected it with a mighty attack. Never did he question his   
motives, although he vaguely wondered why, sometimes at night, faces haunted him and chased   
away sleep. His heart was a void then, and night became the only time he noticed. Until now,   
anyway.   
His derelict heart unnerved him now, and he scarcely believed it still beat. But its pulse   
was always strong, drumming in his ears when he was with Bulma. Not only in the passionate   
nights, but simply from being near her. Its steady rhythm, filled with life, scared him - not because of   
the strength of his emotion, but because the void had vanished to be replaced with a feeling   
honorable Saiyans did not possess. Love's existence startled him. The thought that he could   
love ate at his temperament, causing him to yell more than even he deemed necessary; so he   
stifled love until he knew why he was inflicted. 

_Oh you speak to me in riddles_   
_And you speak to me in rhymes_   
_My body aches to breathe your breath_   
_Your words keep me alive_

Their relationship was shaky to begin with. Anyone who saw the odd couple noticed they   
were always in an argument. The neighbors often filed complaints about their fights - hearing   
thunderous noises of shouting voices and clattering objects. But their apologies would involve   
hot kisses, exploring hands, and the exotic tingle of warm breath on flesh.   
So much he could tell her in those moments after a fight. I love you hung on his lips like   
an anchor to save him; and, like an anchor, he feared it would ground him. He continually chose   
not to say the words that were so foreign, yet meant so much to him - and her, as well. He knew   
she was waiting to hear them. The time would come eventually, but he had to understand his   
words completely and accept them for all they stood for. He hoped Bulma could wait just a little   
while longer. 

_And I would be the one_   
_To hold you down_   
_Kiss you so hard_   
_I'll take your breath away_   
_And after, I'd wipe away the tears_   
_Just close your eyes, dear_

The internal struggle with his feelings was unbearable sometimes, like a war being waged   
in his soul. 'I love you' - the simple phrase would end it, but he was afraid. A part of him   
believed telling Bulma his true emotions would tie him down to Earth, keep him from the   
battles he so loved. The other part knew that if he kept it to himself, Bulma would leave him,   
and he could no longer live life alone. He couldn't bear to think that he might push away the   
one person who truly loved him. 

_Into this night I wander_   
_It's morning that I dread_   
_Another day of knowing of_   
_The path I fear to tread_

Last night Bulma had come to him, concerned about his recent behavior; the way he had   
been avoiding her, or the times he didn't that were filled with cruelty. Naturally, he had said a   
smart remark like, 'Why would I need to tell you, woman', that sent her into one of the tantrums   
she always had when he was 'mean' to her. It wouldn't have bothered him if the fight had ended   
normally for topics such as this - she'd take some time for herself then see him at breakfast the   
next day and act as if nothing had happened - but instead, she had stalked into his room and   
demanded to know if he loved her - hell, felt anything for her. He flew off like a coward to the   
very spot he was now; to the place he always retreated to soothe his tensions.   
Vegeta once more cursed himself for a coward in failing to do the one thing he feared:   
love. Dreading the scene he'd be forced to face in the morning, he stood desolately on the cliff's   
edge, looking out across the barren dessert and awaiting the sun he wished never to rise. 

_Oh into the sea of waking dreams_   
_I follow without pride_   
_Nothing stands between us here_   
_And I won't be denied_

What kind of warrior was he to have fear, especially of an emotion as trivial as love. He's   
a disgrace to his race for feeling the denied sentiment, and he's a disgrace to humankind for   
not acting upon it. Was there any sanctuary from his lost dignity?   
Yes. Often he dreamt of living a joyful life in which he confessed his love, and the   
ending was happily ever after. He banished fear like he would any other foe and was rewarded the   
princess, Bulma. He imagined - God help him - living a life similar to Goku's. Yet again the   
idiot had bested him! But all was forgotten in dreams. There was no Goku, just he and Bulma, alone   
in the world, living a fairy tale life. 

_And I would be the one_   
_To hold you down_   
_Kiss you so hard_   
_I'll take your breath away_   
_And after, I'd wipe away the tears_   
_Just close your eyes..._

The first hint of dawn began peeking over the clouds. He didn't move immediately, but   
remained in thought, considering his options; there were none. Vegeta gazed up at the sky before   
sighing and tiredly stretching his legs. Flying off toward home, his mind on Bulma, he hoped she   
would forgive him this one last time. 


End file.
